


Act Naturally

by jestbee



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Actors, Alternate Universe - College/University, Blow Jobs, Frottage, Getting Together, Hand Jobs, M/M, Smut, Strangers to Lovers, Student!Phil, actor!dan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-04 11:46:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13364094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jestbee/pseuds/jestbee
Summary: Phil has a quiet life studying film at university and some small dreams of being a director he's mostly ignoring, but his whole life is turned upside down when his roommate signs him up for a game show and he meets the famously arrogant movie star Daniel Howell





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Act Naturally by The Beatles
> 
> This is of course the most ridiculous concept that was supposed to be a throw away fluffy one-shot but it grew and grew and now I'm kind of into it. Ridiculous premise and all. 
> 
> I'd just like to say that I know nothing about film making or celebrity event (as will be apparent) but I'm hoping you can all suspend your disbelief and enjoy this anyway :)
> 
> Come say hi on [Tumblr](http://agingphangirl.tumblr.com) or [Twitter](http://twitter.com/agingfangirl)

It's Jimmy that signs him up to the stupid show anyway. Just comes into the living room with a sheepish look on his face and informs Phil that he has to go to the TV studio next week and embarrass himself on national television. With a celebrity team mate. 

Phil looks up from the editing he's doing for his film class and rolls his eyes, as far as schemes go it's one of Jimmy's tamer ones. It can't hurt, it'll be fun. What's the worst that could happen?

-

He doesn't leave the best first impression. That's kind of his thing, the abrasive arrogance he lets linger when he leaves a room. Phil dislikes him almost instantly. 

There's barely a nod or a glance up from his phone when they are introduced. Phil does his best to remain cheery and interested even though he's much more concerned with that big camera in the corner and the people running around in headsets. He prefers the inner-workings of the thing to the spectacle itself. 

Still, he offers his best hello, a static wave and unerring friendliness, which is kind of _his_ thing, and isn't much affected by the stoic silence he receives in return. Not in any shape he thinks will stick anyway.

"This is Dan Howell," they say. And that's the start of it.

-

There's a stupid burst of music when they win. Some confetti maybe, or just lights, Phil doesn't really remember. It's a bit ridiculous. He does remember the smile on Dan's face, the one that looks real enough, at a distance, but up close looks just as hollow and farcical as this whole charade. He can't really blame him, he doesn't know how Dan Howell booked this show anyway, he's a little higher in the acting echelon than the usual guests they get. Phil can only imagine that someone at his agency fucked up and will be on the receiving end of that stony arrogance at full force before long. 

When they finally get the heavy, uncomfortable mic packs removed from the place on their belts at the base of their spines, Phil is surprised to see Dan looking at him with a weird type of interest. 

"You're a student," he says, bluntly.

"I am." Phil nods, "A masters degree in post-production."

"Oh," Dan looks perplexed, like he's confused as to why Phil would offer that information, as if asking about what subject someone is studying wouldn't have been the next logical progression of the conversation. "Interesting." 

He doesn't sound like he's interested at all.

-

When Phil gets the phone call from Sharon at the agency he assumes it is another one of Jimmy's crazy ideas, a prank maybe. But much convincing later he finds himself on the phone with a Dan Howell representative asking if he'd be prepared to let Dan shadow him for the purposes of researching his latest role as a university student. 

Phil agrees mostly out of pure curiosity and they set up a lunch.

It's a nice place, one he might not have chosen himself under normal circumstances but seeing as it's Dan Howell picking up the tab he thinks the boat can be pushed sufficiently out. 

He's late. Running in with a black scarf trailing behind him at his collar and a white, lightly patterned shirt under his leather jacket. He doesn't look any different to all the pictures Phil has seen of him over the years- and they are everywhere- and yet Phil is still adjusting to seeing him in 3D, stark relief against the dredge of regular life. It's surreal.

"Sorry, sorry." Dan says, sitting down with little ceremony.

He doesn't look sorry, Phil knows instantly that this isn't the last time he'll be on the receiving end of an insincere apology for lateness if he's going to let Dan trail around after him. He's not fully convinced he's going to yet.

They don't get down to it until they've ordered their lunch and Dan swiftly moves the topic onto the task as hand. 

"So I'll just need to follow you around a bit, gather a sense of what being a student is like. The project isn't based in Manchester exactly, but I think the experience will translate. I can't tell you anything about the film so don't ask and I can't credit you--" 

"Hang on," Phil interrupts him, "I didn't say I'd agreed to do this yet."

"Look, if you want something in return I'm sure we can work something out." 

"That's not it," Phil shakes his head, fiddling with the edge of the fancy cloth napkin folded on his side of the table. "I'm just not sure I want to be followed around by a surly actor. You'll attract a lot of attention I shouldn't wager and that's really not what I'm about. I don't want you coming in and disrupting everything." 

Dan opens his mouth then closes it again with a click. He shakes his head slowly. Something seems to slide away, the harsh edge to him, it shakes and settles, like ruffled feathers laying flat. He glances across the table and suddenly he isn't the Dan Howell that Phil is used to seeing plastered across media outlets. There is something softer around the edges. 

"No, look, that's not--" he sighs. "I don't want to cause you any trouble. I just need to do research for this thing. I'll be out of your hair just as soon as I can. A week. Or, once a week over a few weeks. Whatever works for you." 

"Why?"

"I told you I can't tell you about the project. I'm not trying to be a dick with the whole need-to-know shit, I'm just under contract." He grimaces like it's unsavoury for him to have to admit that. 

"Hm. No, I meant why'd you need to follow me about? You're not that old, your own uni experiences can't have been that long ago."

Dan is practically glaring at him now and Phil is proud of how stoic he remains under the pressure. It's a hard stare, one that should probably intimidate him, does probably intimidate a lot of people, but for some reason Phil keeps his face the picture of calm. Even if his insides are trying to wriggle their way out through his belly button. 

"A cursory Google would tell you I didn't go to university," Dan states, as though it were obvious. "I got discovered at eighteen so I didn't really have much time to do all of that."

Phil attempts his own glare in response but knows that most likely it has failed. He can't muster up intimidating, it doesn't suit him, he usually lands somewhere around surprised and slightly pouty. 

"I'm not in the habit of googling everyone I go to lunch with."

This seems to put Dan a little on the back foot and Phil sees him shake his head slightly. 

"Look, can we start again?" Dan finally asks, nose crinkling at the bridge. Phil thinks it's cute, but he still doesn't forgive him.

"If you like. But let's assume I know nothing about you, okay? It's mostly true."

"Deal." 

The waitress appears at that moment with their food and there is a gap in conversation while they accept their meals and go about the process of taking the first few bites. It's heaven. Phil hasn't eaten anywhere this fancy in ages and he's damn well going to appreciate it. His eyes probably close at some point because when he opens them Dan is looking at him with a strange expression. 

"Sorry," he says, "This just makes a change from beans on toast. Which is… well, it's kind of a student thing. There you go. You learnt something." 

"I'll make sure to work that one into the script somewhere. Beans on toast for every meal." 

It's sarcastic. Dan is always slightly sarcastic, but it doesn't sound harsh in the way that is usually does it's almost like--

"Did you just make a joke?" 

Dan smiles, slowly, a little at a time. "It's been known to happen occasionally." 

"Well, warn me next time." Phil giggles, actually giggles. Which is ridiculous. He can't help it. 

"I'm not always a dick. Sorry. I'm just a bit… well, don't expect me to be all nice and stuff because I am like, emotionally stunted. Actors, terrible people really, emotions all haywire because we play with them all the time. Completely unstable, I wouldn't trust a one of us. But…" he looks up, brown eyes completely sincere, "I will try. If you agree to help me. I'll try and be a bit nicer."

It says something about either Dan's acting ability, or Phil's bleeding heart that he believes him. He agrees to help.

-

Phil meets him a week later. They agree on the library because it's fairly central to the campus and Dan makes an agreeing noise when Phil suggests it at the end of dinner, like he knows where it is at least. 

He doesn't expect the coffee cup Dan passes him when he turns up. He does expect the strange stares they get from people walking past. Like they're trying to place Dan but can't quite do it. 

Dan does look a bit different. He's dressed down for the occasion, in what appears to be a fairly normal pair of jeans and jumper under a black jacket. But then, they could be some obscure designer label for all Phil knows. He does look a little less like himself though, some of the shine rubbed off, so Phil can see why people walking past might not instantly recognise him as the star of all those films they've seen. 

There is a man with Dan too. Tall, slightly foreboding, with really cropped hair. Phil thinks his head must be really cold, but he doesn't say so. 

"This is Earl," Dan explains when he catches him looking. "He… Um, He's my bodyguard. He has to, you know, make sure no serial killers kidnap me and keep me in their basement." 

"Darn," Phil says, grinning, "There go my plans." 

Earl doesn't look too impressed with the joke but he does raise a surprised and happy eyebrow when Phil reaches out to shake his hand. 

Dan's mouth quirks sharply, a tiny condensed grin he mostly keeps to himself. Phil doesn't like the wash of pride he gets at making Dan laugh, even if it's silently.

"Nice to meet you, Earl." 

"Same," Earl says back, but Phil suspects it isn't really. 

He turns back to Dan and wraps his hands back around the warm paper coffee cup. "So I have a lecture this morning, a seminar this afternoon and some studying to do in the middle. Sound good?" 

Dan nods, "Just do what you'd usually do," he confirms, "If I have any questions along the way I'll ask. Cool?" 

"Cool." 

Dan blows kind of hot and cold throughout the day. Phil is already out of his element with eyes following them wherever they go so it's even more unsettling when Dan's mood fluctuates so wildly. 

He's often folded in on himself, shoulders hunched, eyes cast to the ground, like he wishes it would just swallow him up. He barely says two words to Phil in the corridors of the buildings and only really seems to relax when they're tucked in the back of library between the lecture and seminar. 

"Is it like you thought it would be?" Phil asks, just to try and start a conversation. 

"It was interesting," Dan replies, stretching his legs out underneath the table and leaning back on his chair. Phil is scared it's going to tip over but it's the first time Dan has looked chilled out all day so he doesn't say anything.

"Interesting?" 

"Yeah. I didn't think it would be like that. No one picked on you to answer, people weren't talking or throwing things. The content of the lecture was good. It was interesting." 

Phil laughs, "well the difference with university is that everyone wants to be here I guess."

Dan is quiet for a moment, chewing on his bottom lip. Earl hovers around in the space between two bookshelves and seems to be occupied looking at some of the titles. Hopefully he isn't completely off-guard though. Just in case. Even Phil is nervous something might happen. 

"I had a plan to go to uni once," Dan says quietly, "just after I was picked up when that agent came to see me do Benvolio everyone told me it wouldn't last, that I needed to get a better plan for my future."

Phil nods, he can see how that makes sense. Not given how it all worked out, he supposes, but you have to have a back up plan. These things rarely work out in the way that you imagine.

"So I'd decided on law. I took a gap year to do the acting thing to see whether it would work out but I planned on applying to uni and doing law if it all went tits up. I don't think I would have enjoyed it." 

Phil takes a moment to imagine Dan as a lawyer. He knows from red carpets and various roles that Dan looks very good in a suit but beyond the attire he can't really imagine it at all. 

"Very, um, serious." Phil offers. 

"Yeah," Dan agrees. "Not me at all." 

"Good job the acting thing worked out, then." 

"Yeah, good thing."

-

Earl is almost a constant. Phil wonders when or if he goes to the bathroom because he seems to follow them relentlessly. He's always at a bit of a distance but he's not overly interested in Dan or much with Phil outside of ensuring that Dan isn't in any danger. 

Phil can't help but to ask a few days later. They're in a routine, the library doors, the coffee, even Dan's fluctuating moods. He seems to be in an alright one today so he risks it.

"Does he have to go everywhere with you?" 

Dan looks up and over at where Phil is gesturing to Earl at the end of their row. 

People in the lecture hall walk by him and give him the side eye as they pass but he pays them no mind.

"My management company insists on it," Dan sighs. Looking down at his notebook. 

He doodles in the margins. Always in black biro, never anything that looks happy or cheerful. Thick lines and angry stabs at the paper. Phil wants to pass him a bright pink highlighter, add some colour to his world.

"Oh," he says instead, "they make you?"

Dan nods, his fringe drooping over his eyes as he concentrates on the emerging depiction of-- Phil isn't sure what it is. 

"Yes," he says, "They're my management company. I can't just… you know. Whatever."

"But you're the talent," Phil insists. "Surely you have some say over your own life."

"You make it sound easy," Dan snorts, "it's not really… that's not how it works."

Phil thinks things are probably quite different than he imagines them to be. 

"I say you start throwing your weight around," he suggests. 

"What like, 'I'm famous I can do what I want'," Dan says. He looks up, there's a cheeky rueful smile on his mouth and Phil thinks it suits him. Sarcasm. Not the abrasive kind he's used to, from interviews and media appearances he's seen of Dan, but this one. It looks good on him.

"Exactly," Phil says, "celebrities should have an easy life." 

He laughs, but the smile disappears from Dan's face and he suspects he's said something wrong.

"It's not though," Dan says suddenly. "It's not like I can go anywhere or do anything I want. You've seen the way people look. The way they want to come up and talk to me all the time. I'm never alone."

He looks over at Earl.

"I've been in this business since I was really young, I never got much time to just goof off or… hell, come to university. Earl follows me everywhere because it's safer but honestly sometimes I'm glad he's there or I might run away from it all entirely."

Phil blinks. It's the most he's heard Dan talk about himself in a way that sounds honest. Phil wonders why, but mostly he just feels awful for thinking Dan had everything easy. He makes a mental note to go easy on him a little bit. To show him how fun uni can be if he wants, give him the experience he didn't have.

"I'm not trying to be… like, poor-little-me about it." Dan carries on. "I know I have… a lot of like, privileges and stuff. Doing what I do. I don't want you to think--"

"I don't," Phil says, because he doesn't. "I was just joking."

"Okay."

They write in silence for a little bit, Dan doodling and Phil trying to think of things for the lecture ahead. Mostly he just thinks about Dan. The tutor enters through the door at the bottom of the room and begins setting up the projector. 

"You could try it on something small though," Phil suggests finally. 

"Yeah? Like what?" 

"Like… if you wanted to get ice cream after this."

"It's October," Dan points out, "it's freezing."

"So?" Phil replies, "You're famous, you can do what you want."

Dan's right, it is so cold outside. They get ice cream anyway. 

-

Dan is late.

Although Phil had mostly expected this he's still kind of miffed about it. It's cold in front of the library and he realises how used to the warmth of their morning coffee he's become.  
He shoves his hands in his shallow pockets and huffs a breath into the cold air. He's going to leave, he really is. 

He'll leave it like two more minutes. Then he really needs to go or he'll miss their lecture. His lecture. 

Dan arrives just as the two minutes are up. Earl is trailing behind of course and to his credit he does at least look like he's moving at some sort of speed, a look on concentration on his face. 

"Sorry, Sorry," he says coming to a stop. 

There's a bag banging on his hip and no coffee in his hands. 

"Let's just… we'll be late." Phil says moving off in the direction of the lecture hall, Dan tagging at his heels and Earl tagging at his. 

They walk in silence until they get there and then Phil thinks better of saying nothing. 

"Who do I call if you're late?" He asks, because he realises he wouldn't know if Dan had just decided not to come today. "Or if I need to get in contact with you?"

Dan lets the surprise show on his face for a second before digging into his bag and ripping a piece of paper from his notebook. There are no doodles on this piece at least. 

He leans over to the wall next to the door, scribbling a number on the paper before passing it to Phil.

"You can call this number if you need me." 

Dan heads into the lecture hall, Phil slides the paper into his pocket and Earl raises his eyebrows. 

It's not the best start to the day, but the rest of it is okay.

-

They usually sit in the back. Phil notices the way Dan likes to hide himself just a little bit and Earl can often get a seat on the end of the row so he doesn't have to stand being all intimidating in the corner. 

Today they're late so they have to settle for the second row. They shuffle in as a sea of eyes looks at them and nudge the person next to them about the famous person almost tripping over someone's backpack at the front of the room. 

Dan's face gets a little rosy patch on his cheek and his shoulders slump a little as people titter. Phil wants to fight them all.

They're halfway through when the lecturer throws a question out to the room. There's the usual silence of course but this time it's different. Thistime Dan raises a hand next to him and starts talking. 

"Are there any other examples of this use of silence you can think of?" The tutor says. 

"I'm fond of Skiabrov's use of it in Handled." Dan says, "he let's it linger during the scene with Ronald's brother. Though of course a lot of people put that down to McDermott's acting prowess rather than the direction. But in my experience it's almost always a collaborative effort."

Phil can feel his mouth drop open and he's looking at Dan rather than the tutor now. 

"You're familiar with Skiabrov?" 

"Well," Dan jokes, "not personally. But I live in hope."

"Well it's a fantastic example. I'd encourage anyone who can to give it a watch if they want to see a masterful use of silence to increase emotional resonance." 

She moves on. The lecture discussing many more themes and examples and Phil can't actually remember what the lecture is supposed to be about anyway. 

He does, however, notice when Dan's shoulders look a little less tense, and the small secret smile he adopts when he thinks no one can see.

-

They're in the cafeteria, boxed sandwiches on flimsy plastic trays when Phil starts rambling. 

Mostly because people are still looking and he's acutely aware of how meagre this lunch must be compared to what Dan is used to. Still, he wanted the uni experience Phil supposes.

"So you like film?" 

"Well… I work in them." 

"Yeah but I mean… that, in the lecture, it sounded like an actual… opinion. Not like… ugh. You know what I mean." 

"I do," Dan chuckles, "Yes. I'm a fan of film." 

"Okay," Phil says, sitting down on a long bench and gathering his knee up into his chest, resting his chin on his knee. "What's your favourite?" 

Dan sits too, not opposite like Phil thought he would but next to him, crossing his legs in front of him. He looks relaxed, happy. Earl hovers somewhere near another table over. 

They talk until the cafeteria closes.


	2. Chapter Two

It turns out, they have quite a bit in common. It starts with films that first time in the cafeteria, but the next day they spend hours in between classes and other responsibilities discussing all manner of things they both like, or things they both don't. Coming out of the student union, Dan finally stumbles onto a subject Phil is well versed in.

"The great Dan Howell, anime nerd?" 

Phil is laughing, his face screwed up, hand cast over his mouth. Dan, on the other hand, is scowling. Earl watches them with a kind of detached interest.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Phil stems his laughter and looks into Dan's frown with unerring poise. It's getting easier, the more time goes on, for him to look beyond Dan's abrasive facade and into the tiny softer bits of him. 

"Nothing," he shrugs, "I guess it's just… you surprise me. It's… nice. I like it."

Dan glances down at his shoes. "You keep saying stuff like that."

"Like what?"

"You know, nice things. About me."

"People say nice things about you all the time. I read an article the other day where a woman waxed poetic about the exact shade of brown your eyes are."

Dan shrugs. "Are you saying they're not a nice shade of brown?"

"No. They are… I mean. Whatever." Phil feels his cheeks pink up. "I just meant that people give you compliments all the time so there's no need to act so coy."

Dan takes the empty coffee cup out of Phil's hand. They're both in scarves, it's cold out and they've paused on the pavement because Phil should really go home right about now, but he doesn't want to. For some reason. He can see his breath when Dan sighs, tossing both of their cups into a nearby bin. 

He shuffles back, a little closer, volume of his voice dropping so that their constant companion doesn't overhear.

"Not like that," he says, voice low and quiet, "Not all… sincere. People don't say things like that. Not really. About like, the real me." 

Phil can't really find an answer to that anywhere, but he does twist his mouth up, almost a smile, somewhat of a pout. It's odd, his face is odd and a famous movie star is looking at him like he's the strangest person to ever exist. 

"Sorry," he says finally. "I just... I don't know. I can't believe no one says nice things about you. You're… fun. You know, when you're not being annoying." 

Dan cracks a smile, that full one that settles right into the corners of his mouth and makes his dimples dip in stark relief. The one that makes Phil's stomach clench. 

"That's probably why," he says, "I am pretty annoying."

Phil nods. His fingers gripping the cuff of his own jacket because he used to have the coffee cup to provide a bit of a barrier, but that's gone now. It leaves his mind reeling, stuttering from one thing to another, which probably accounts for what he says next. 

"You should come over sometime, watch that anime you were talking about." 

Come over. Like they're friends, like he's not talking to actual Dan Howell right now. As if Dan Howell is a perfectly ordinary person. 

The strange thing is, Phil is beginning to think in separation. This Dan, bundled into winter clothing and pink cheeked on the pavement next to him is just his friend Dan. Just some guy he bickers with about random things, and shares coffee with of a morning. Someone he walks to class with, discusses movies with. 

It's separate from the Dan that gets stares in the corridors of his university that needs a bodyguard to protect him from the throng of fans that could descend any minute. From the person that is about 1000 miles away from Phil in any metric you'd choose to measure with. 

This Dan, still stood as close as anyone has ever stood to Phil, the tips of their scarves swinging gently together in the space between their bodies. This Dan, says yes.

-

Jimmy has wiped down the kitchen counter for the fourth time when Phil feels it's necessary to say something. 

"Stop."

"How are you so calm?" Jimmy asks, cocking his head, glasses halfway down his nose and his hair a complete nest of knots. 

Phil shrugs. "It's just Dan." 

He's trying to play it cool. He's mostly fine, but the surrealism of it all is hitting him ever so slightly. 

"Just Dan," Jimmy scoffs, "Just Dan Howell, international movie star." 

"I think his work has been mostly British actually," Phil corrects with a grin, "He hasn't broken America yet."

"Twat." Jimmy says and launches the cloth he'd been using across the room. 

Jimmy wouldn't usually show this much frantic energy. He's much more aloof and stoic on a normal basis but Phil is granted access to his all crazy and the joy of watching him all hopped up on whatever confection he'd found when cleaning their kitchen cupboards. 

Phil had tried explaining that Dan wasn't going to be going in the kitchen cupboards, but Jimmy had rolled his eyes and given him a look that told him to keep out of it. 

"Is that what you're wearing?" Jimmy asks, when he's pulled the sofa out to clear behind it. 

Phil looks down at his shirt with the birds all over it and the same jeans he's been wearing for the last few days/ "I was going to, yeah."

"Phiil," Jimmy complains, "You can't just wear any old thing on a date with a movie star."

Phil lets his eyebrows shoot up, "date?" He asks, "You think this is a date?

"Isn't it?"

"No, god. No… it's nothing like that."

"Oh."

"Why would you think that?"

"I don't know," Jimmy says, coming out from behind the sofa with a fistful of junk mail that has somehow made its way back there. "He's into guys, you're into guys. You spend all your time together. I made an assumption." 

"The wrong one." 

"Okay, okay." Jimmy says, shoving the junk mail into the awaiting black bin liner. "If you say so."

"I do. Besides… how do you know he…"

"Seriously Phil," Jimmy says, pushing the sofa back, "You can recite movies by heart and know the back catalogue of any famous director and a few non-famous ones but you know nothing about popular culture."

"I like _film_ ," Phil points out, "Not celebrities."

Jimmy crooks an eyebrow, "Could have fooled me. Anyway, it was quite the bit of news when Dan came out. Was forced to really by all that paparazzi last year who popped him with that bloke."

"Oh."

The thought makes Phil feel uncomfortable. That Dan should have been forced to talk about that, about something so personal. Before he was ready to. 

"Yeah," Jimmy says, sitting on the couch, "Kinda messed up. Still, he's done a pretty good job of giving good representation since then. Turned it around and got involved with a bunch of LGBT causes and that. He's alright."

When Dan does turn up later, relaxed in casual clothes and a t-shirt that is a touch too big, Jimmy has perfected his nonchalance once again. He offers a small 'hey' and doesn't look at him directly until he's turned his back. 

He eventually leaves them alone, going out with a small wave, but Phil suspects that has more to do with his lacking ability to remain cool and collected the longer he stays, rather than any desire to actually give them some privacy. Not that they need it. 

"No Earl?" Phil asks as the door closes. 

"Nah," Dan says, looking at the edge of his shoe as he scuffs it on Phil's hallway carpet. "I told him that if you kidnapped me and killed me that I'd be willing to accept responsibility for that. He wasn't happy, but…"

"But you're famous, you can do what you want."

Dan looks up and grins, soft and small, like something warm. "Yeah, something like that."

It hits Phil, in that moment, in the silence and the quiet, that they are alone. No Earl, no Jimmy, no one at all.

There is tension lingering in the way Dan holds himself still, static in the middle of Phil's home. It feels wrong that he doesn't simply charge in, make himself at home in this part the way he has everywhere else in Phil's life. He can't pinpoint why this is different, but it feels like it is.

"So…?" He says.

At the same time Dan says "Well…" 

They lock eyes and laugh. The tension dissipates. Dan flops down onto the sofa and demands anime and pizza.

Phil obliges. 

A little later, episodes and episodes into different shows, an empty pizza box on the coffee table, and conversation is flowing as normally as it always does. 

"So," Dan says, slinging the final crust of pizza he's been looking at like a challenge for the past five minutes back into the box. "What are you actually planning to do with your degree, you know, once you're done." 

"I don't know," he confesses, because it's true. "I had grand ideas about actually being a director but obviously that wouldn't work out." 

"You don't know that. You could." 

Phil ignores the hollow encouragement, because he isn't stupid enough to believe it just because it's coming from a celebrity. He really can't afford to keep those kind of thoughts in his head.

"That's the first time you've asked something about me," he says instead, because that is also true. 

"It's not the first time I've wanted to," Dan says, turning towards him.

The room has gone dark, the sun dipping down over the horizon of Manchester at the window. There's the artificial glow of the tv screen but now much else and Phil can see the blue-white glow of it on the dips of Dan's face, the soft curves of it touched by only glances of colour. 

"I can't seem to get it right around you," Dan whispers, "I keep trying to act… to be less… you know, me. But I'm not very good at it. You make me wish I was normal."

Phil sighs, "You make me wish I wasn't." 

Dan sighs a little and Phil can feel the warmth of it over his face. They're quite close now and Phil can see the dimple in Dan's cheek up close and he wants to run his fingers over it and map the dip. It's a strange thought that takes him and he doesn't know where it comes from. But Dan is kind of beautiful in the glow of the television screen and he looks so cosy and comfortable in the crease of his sofa, like he belongs there, and Phil doesn't really know what to do with that information.

He's forgotten himself entirely. This is no longer Daniel Howell, celebrity and activist and whatever the hell else he is outside of this flat. This is Dan. And Phil wants to kiss him.

He imagines it, he must, because in that moment he could swear Dan Howell tilts his head slightly and leans in. He has to have imagined it, but he doesn't have too much time to ponder as the front door shuts with a bang from across the flat and whatever quiet moment had been upon them is ripped away by Jimmy shouting hello in the hall.

"You done with your movie star date Philly?" 

Phil's face blanches and he turns to Dan wild and apologetic. "I didn't say this was… he's just… He's an idiot. I didn't--"

Dan laughs, nudges Phil's shoulder with his own before standing. "I know."

He stretches slightly, arms long and extended over his head. 

"You're back too early," he calls to Jimmy. The footsteps stop for a second at the sound. "Movie star still here I'm afraid." 

Jimmy appears at the living room door looking sheepish. "Sorry. I didn't realise you guys wouldn't be…"

"It's cool," Dan shrugs, "It's fairly late, I should probably go anyway. Let me just call my driver and I'll get out of your hair." 

Phil is disappointed, a low sinking feeling he can't really account for because he's going to see Dan tomorrow anyway, in the morning, outside the library like he always does. 

When Dan's car arrives he ends up walking with him down to the curb. He doesn't know why he does it except that with Jimmy in the equation, still flapping about and looking mildly perplexed every time Dan tries to talk to him, he feels awkward and trapped and all his words get lost. 

Turns out the walk down to the street doesn't give him enough thinking time and he's still as speechless there as he had been back at the flat. 

"See you tomorrow then," Dan says, easy and casual. 

Phil doesn't know why he's feeling like this. Except that he'd imagined Dan had tilted his head in the dark and he can't get that freeze frame out of his head. He wants it blown up, zoomed in, pixel by pixel so he can examine it, analyse what it might mean in their particular narrative. 

"Tomorrow," Phil nods, and it isn't enough. 

Dan lingers, just half a second, but Phil doesn't do anything more. He daren't. Because this is still Dan Howell, they are still out on the street, and Phil isn't idiotic enough to think this will end any other way than awkward goodbyes and then his complete disappearance once his research is over. It's much better if he doesn't try to develop this particular plot arc by focussing on any freeze-frame moments he may or may not have completely made up in his own head. 

Dan pats him on the arm, a flat palm curled around his bicep. He's warm and it might linger, or Phil might just pay it more attention than anything else. Then Dan climbs into the car, the scene ends, and Phil can go back to normal.

-

The request comes a few days later. 

"You want to see them?" 

"Yes?" Dan shrugs, "If that's okay. It'd be nice…"

"I don't…" 

"From a purely research point of view," Dan says, his voice quick. "You know, to see someone putting their degree in to practise." 

"Seems a pretty thin excuse for you wanting to see my short films," Phil points out. 

-

He trades Dan the coffee cup for a USB drive the next morning at the library. 

"I don't want to know what you think." Phil says, sipping his coffee and watching Dan put the drive in his pocket. "Just… they're awful. Watch them but keep your opinions to yourself." 

Dan smiles and lifts his own cup to his lips. 

-

The next day, though there are no lectures on his timetable, Dan comes over to his flat anyway. He's alone again, spouting something about needing to see what life is like for students when they're lounging about. 

Phil suspects he wants a day off from whatever it is famous actors do when they're not being in films or talking to the press. Whatever the reason, he flops down on Phil's couch with very little ceremony and Phil is thankful Jimmy has stayed the night with his latest flame. He has no idea how he'd take Dan Howell coming into their home in the early morning while Phil is still in his PJs. Phil himself isn't entirely sure how he feels about it. 

He hasn't had coffee, or put his contacts it, but other than a little bit of a look up and down when he first came through the door, Phil's morning appearance doesn't seem to bother him any.

He hands the USB drive back when Phil sets down a mug of coffee he's hastily made for them both. He's going to need it, it seems.

"Already?" He asks. 

"Already."

Phil tries to drink his coffee, perches on the arm of the couch because Dan has stretched his legs out and Phil doesn't really know how to go about moving him. He turns the flash drive over in his palm with the other hand. 

Finally, after a few moments silence and Dan staring at his phone, he just has to ask.

"Well?" 

Dan smiles, "You said you didn't want to know."

"Right." 

Phil puts the USB stick on the coffee table, takes another swig of coffee that is slightly too hot, tries to ignore the swirl of curiosity in his gut. 

"Just… tell me." He says finally, unable to ignore it. 

"You sure?" Dan sits up, swings his feet round to rest on the floor, leaving space for Phil to slide off the arm of the couch and into the hollow of his old sofa cushions.

"I mean… I know they're awful. I know… but. Yes. I want to know, because you know about films and stuff and you've worked with some of the best. I should… I should seek feedback. Tell me what you thought."

Dan looks at him, the dip in the sofa bringing them kind of close together. Phil is distracted by the anticipation of not knowing what Dan thinks, and he isn't giving anything away with his face. But not so distracted that he doesn't notice how close they are, and how that makes him feel kind of hot all over.

"I really loved all of them," Dan enthuses finally.

His face is bright, dimples apparent. Using his limited knowledge of Dan Howell, Phil can't see any hint of the hollow, fake cheeriness that usually makes an appearance when he's lying or playing up to a bit. It seems genuine, but he holds his breath anyway. 

"Your editing style is really quirky. I'm not quite sure what I'm looking at sometimes, which is truly inspiring. I'd love to see something feature length, it's so unique, I don't think anyone is really ready for it." 

Phil lets out his breath slowly, "You're mad." 

"No Phil," Dan says, leaning close and knocking their shoulders together, "You're really good. You could go really far." 

"Yeah, that's me," Phil jokes, pulling a face, "I'll be a big Hollywood director in no time. Celebrities will be lined up to star in my films, I'll be beating them off with a stick."

"I know I would," 

Phil shakes his head and shoves him slightly. 

"Whatever," he says, "come on, let's play something. I'll show you what students do with their day off."

-

It hits Phil in the back of his cinematography class a few days later, Dan scribbling in the margins of his notebook next to him in thick black biro, that this week is the last one. 

No more Dan and his constant shuffling beside him, no more lingering stares from everyone following him from class to class and everywhere on campus. 

No more coffee in front of the library doors. 

No more Dan. 

He tries to concentrate on the lecture, but he doesn't do very well. 

-

"A premiere?" 

"Yuh huh. Next week. To say thank you for… you know. Letting me follow you around." 

"You don't need to…" 

Dan is on his couch again, leaning comfortably, head tipped back on the armrest and feet swung up in front of him. He looks like he belongs there and Phil kind of hates it because he knows he's going away again next week. 

"Don't be stupid I know I don't have to. I just want to. I'm famous, I can do what I want." 

That in itself is almost enough to make him say yes. Almost.

"I don't even have a suit," Phil says. 

"We can get one." 

"I wouldn't even know what to do at a premiere." 

"It's really not complicated." 

"Dan…" 

"Phil…" 

He sits up, staring at Phil across the room who had been putting a DVD in the player when Dan had dropped the bombshell. 

"I'm scared." Phil admits.

"Don't worry," Dan says, brown eyes unblinking, "I'll be there."

-

Phil tries not to think of the stupid movie trope as Dan pays for his suit a few days later. 

There's no changing room montage or soundtrack to go along with a multitude of costume changes, Phil just tries one on, nods at himself in the mirror and emerges a few minutes later. 

Dan pulls out his credit card and Earl rolls his eyes. 

All in all, it isn't really all that glamourous. Except Phil hugs the suit carrier to his chest all the way home.


	3. Chapter Three

It's Jimmy again really. Every bad decision he makes is usually Jimmy's fault. That and the two vodkas he'd made Phil drink as 'pre-drinks' anyway. He also won't let him eat.

"Eating's cheating," he sing songs at Phil, and pours him another measure.

He has the phone in his hand now and he's not really sure who he's going to get through to.

"It's probably just his agent's number," Phil says. The scribbled on piece of notebook paper Dan had given him in those first few days is clutched in his fist. It's crumpled and smudged from where he fished it out of the bottom of his bag but he can still read the number. Enough to key it into his phone and then stare at it on the screen without doing anything.

"So tell her you need to get in contact with Dan for a research opportunity," Jimmy shrugs. He's lying on Phil's bed and he's had way more than two vodkas already.

He's the worst influence, really. But Phil presses the call button.

"Hello?" he hears, after way too few rings.

Phil is momentarily stunned into silence.

"Is it him?" Jimmy mouths from his bed. He'd been upside down before but he flips over now, mattress creaking under his knees.

"Hi Dan," Phil manages and Jimmy almost falls over with how much he's flailing.

"Who's this?"

He sounds irritable and Phil can't blame him. Who calls someone at nine o'clock at night to invite them out? What is he even doing?

Oh god. It's Saturday night and Dan is a celebrity, there's no way he's not at some glamourous party already. Probably with a equally beautiful famous person on his arm. This is a disaster.

"It's um, Phil," He says, "from the err… uni?"

He sounds like an idiot. Jimmy looks more and more pleased the worse he sounds. Phil is honestly going to kill him.

There is a soft chuckle on the other end of the line. "Yes, Phil. Hi. I know who you are."

"Oh, good. Um. Yeah."

Phil turns his back, he can't stand the sight of Jimmy grinning like a fool and bouncing on his bed. This way round though he can see his own reflection in the mirror on his wardrobe door and somehow, his own surprised and slightly flustered face is worse.

"So did you… want something?" Dan asks.

"Yes. Yes I… I did. I... " Phil takes a breath, picks his drink up from the top of his chest of drawers and downs a good mouthful of it. Dutch courage then. Jimmy always mixes them too strong. "I wanted to invite you to a party."

"A party?"

"Yes. A party. Tonight. Well… now. In an hour. Whenever."

"A party… tonight?"

Phil hears it back and realises how out of nowhere it sounds. He's actually on the phone to Dan freaking Howell inviting him to some stupid university party.

"For… research?" he tries out, rolling his eyes at his own reflection.

He catches sight of Jimmy behind him laughing. This is all his fault.

"Research."

"Yes."

There's a breath of silence while Phil regrets every single decision he ever made in his life that led to this moment.

"Alright," he hears Dan say. "Where and when?"

-

Dan turns up wearing a black shirt under a black jacket with black jeans turned up at the hems. There are white shoes on his feet and Phil can see the slender curves of his ankles. He didn't know he could have a thing for ankles. Perhaps that third vodka in the interim had been a mistake.

Phil feels awkward in his blue shirt with the polka dots on it. But Jimmy had given it the seal of approval before leaving so he'd put it on without question.

"Two nights out in two days?" Dan says, "All that guff about 'never going outside' is starting to look a little bit like fibbing."

"It's not usual," Phil insists, grabbing his jacket and leaving the flat without inviting him in. "I don't often get invited to this many things."

"Well, I feel privileged to get to come to both with you."

Phil shrugs, "Don't get your hopes up. Tonight won't be anything like tomorrow. It'll just be a bunch of students drinking cheap spirits in a room with the top 40 playing in the background."

"Sounds perfect," Dan smiles, "At least, for the sake of research. I think I can suffer through one night of typical student life."

"I'm not sure I can," Phil says, "I don't often go to these things. It was Jimmy, he insisted."

Dan nods like he understands. "And where is your roommate?"

They're on the street now, having reached the end of the driveway.

"Jimmy went early to help set up. The party is at this guy's house…"

"And Jimmy wanted to make a good impression?"

"Something like that."

Dan chuckles. "Good on him."

-

There's a rainbow flag hanging out of an upstairs window when they arrive. Dan gives it a bit of a glance and then gives a little nervous look over his shoulder.

"Are you okay?" Phil asks.

"Yes," Dan nods. He sighs. "Do I sound completely pathetic if I say that I'm kind of… wishing Earl was here?"

"No," Phil says quickly. He nudges Dan's shoulder with his encouragingly. "I was kind of wondering where he was to be honest."

"I thought… I should get the authentic experience."

"Well, you'll get that." Phil said. "Don't worry though… Tom is cool. He's LGBT soc president, hence the flag."

They both look up. Dan looks perplexed, a groove appearing between his brows and his mouth pulled into a line.

"So it's a queer party."

"Just a party," Phil nods, "But… yeah. Predominantly. That a problem?"

"Nope," Dan says, his voice dropped a bit low. "I just didn't know you…"

"Ohhh," Phil says, grinning widely at the obvious reason for Dan's confusion. "Yeah. I… Yes."

"Okay."

"Okay."

-

The party is a little loud, and although a few people go out of their way to come over to talk to Phil where they wouldn't usually, as an excuse to get close to Dan Phil presumes, they don't get much attention. Jimmy must have forewarned everyone and Phil is grateful. But he's still concerned when the tension doesn't leave Dan's shoulders at all even as he drinks his second beer.

"Are you having a good time?" Phil asks him.

"Yeah," Dan says. But he doesn't sound convincing.

-

There is a couple making out on the stairs. Two guys pressed up close, all limbs and breathy sighs and Dan is looking at them a little too closely.

"Are you okay?" Phil asks, for what seems like the millionth time that evening.

"You don't have to keep asking."

"I know but… you look like you're overwhelmed."

He's been a little like it all evening. Aware of his surroundings and Phil had thought it was just the general celebrity of it all at first but as the night wore on, he realises that it's something else. Dan looks lost, like a small child somewhere big and exciting for the first time. Scared.

"Can we…" Dan hooks a thumb in the direction of the upstairs and Phil nods.

"Sure."

They squeeze past the couple and make their way to the top landing where the music is a little quieter. Dan charges ahead, opening a door at the end of the hall and pulling Phil inside with a firm hand on his shirt sleeve. They find themselves in a strange, sparse bedroom. There's a desk in the corner with an empty Jack Daniels bottle on it and a stack geography text books by the rickety bed but other than there there is little sign of habitation.

"Can I…" Dan says, stopping and turning to look at Phil in the dark room. "I'm going to sound really pathetic right now. Considering. But I feel like I need to explain why I'm so…"

Phil nods. And because it feels like a heavy moment he shuts the door, dampening the sound of the party below so that it's like they're alone.

"You don't have to tell me anything," Phil says, "Not if you don't want to."

"No… I want to."

"Okay," Phil says, "I'll listen."

Dan turns and paces a little, just the short space between Phil and the desk and then back again.

"I think…" He starts, running a hand through his fringe, messing it up and then smoothing it back down. "I haven't been to a party like this before."

"I know," Phil says.

"No…" Dan clarifies, "I haven't been to a party… with…"

"Oh."

"You don't need to sound so shocked. I've been to the fancy fundraisers and black tie dinners but just.. Not a house party."

Phil shakes his head, "No, sorry. I didn't mean… I just…"

"I know."

"I don't mean to assume. I didn't even… Jimmy told me what happened. Last year. With the… pictures."

"Yeah."

He lets Dan have the silence for a second and watches as he chews his lip so hard it turns white under his teeth.

"That was the first guy I ever…" Dan looks at him, straight in the eye. Phil wonders what it is he did to deserve Dan trusting him with this information, but he knows he wouldn't do anything with it. It'll stay in this shitty room.

"Okay."

"And then they… well it didn't last after that."

"I'm sorry."

Dan shrugs, "It's just the way these things go. I can understand why he… it was a lot. Afterwards."

"I can imagine. I think."

"I always knew. But I just… well I never got to… you're not supposed to. And there is just… you can't do what you want. Everyone told me it would affect my career and so I just pushed it down, you know?"

Phil recognises this. He'd never had it himself, he's been lucky that way. But he knows it isn't always that easy for everyone else, and it must have been hell for Dan.

"But then last year I just thought, 'what the hell'. I think I got a bit angry at everyone telling me what to do and I thought fuck it. So I went out with him even though I knew it was stupid."

"It wasn't stupid," Phil insists. "You deserve to be happy."

"I'm not even sure I liked him," Dan laughs, "We had nothing in common. It wasn't about him exactly. It was about me."

Phil thinks back to the first time he kissed a boy. That leaping jolt in his chest at how it felt good, just as good as it did with a girl. How that all twisted up and felt weird because from everything he'd been told it wasn't supposed to.

He remembers telling his mum that it had happened and how it hadn't felt any different and asking her if he was wired wrong. She's hugged him close and told him that of course he wasn't, that for some people that's just how it was, that he didn't have to choose.

"Then suddenly I'm some sort of figurehead for it all because that's the way the management company said we should go. And I didn't want to be an activist for something I barely understand. I'm not like... experienced."

"You don't have to be… it's still valid," Phil insists, because he is. But he understands what Dan means.

"The truth is I've kind of stayed away from it all. So I haven't done any of it. I haven't come to parties like this or gone to gay clubs or… you know. I never got to do any of that. I haven't even kissed a bloke I really liked. Just one that was there."

"Well…" Phil says, "You're at the party now. You can experience it. Forget the research it was a flimsy excuse anyway."

"An excuse?" Dan asks, moving closer so that Phil can see him again in the light from the window. A street lamp shining in from the road. "For what?"

"For…" Phil fidgets, clutching fingers at the hem of his shirt. "For wanting to spend time with you."

He doesn't know why he confesses. The vodka maybe, or the beer. Something.

"Oh."

"Before it's all over."

"Yeah," Dan nods, "I understand that."

"Well. Anyway. Let's go enjoy the party. You can… you know, maybe you'll find a bloke you like to snog."

"Yeah…" Dan says, his voice a quiet sound near Phil's ear as they turn to open the door and go back into the fray. "Maybe."

-

They leave an hour later. Dan has one more beer and doesn't find a bloke that he really likes and Phil can't help the feeling of relief when he pulls on the edge of Phil's shirt sleeve and says "Hey, you wanna get out of here?"

They do a round of goodbyes and find Jimmy doing a shot of something foul in the kitchen. They get roped in to doing one to as 'payment for leaving early' and then they're allowed to go, back on to the freezing pavement.

"So," Phil says, "What did you think?"

"I'd give it… a solid seven out of ten."

"A seven?"

"I'm a harsh marker."

"Still," Phil says, "seventy percent, that's a First at least."

"Well, it made up marks for the company," Dan says, nudging him with his shoulder again in that way that's becoming familiar.

"Yeah," Phil agrees, "I'd give it good marks for that too."

They continue walking, their breath coming out in short bursts of mist they can see gathering around their noses. Dan pulls out his phone and starts texting and it's a comfortable silence, without the need to fill it. They make it most of the way back to Phil's flat, at the corner of the road down near the park, when Dan stops next to the black wrought iron railings.

"What? Why are we stopping? It's freezing--"

"Thank you," Dan says, "For tonight."

"Oh," Phil says, "Of course. Yeah. No problem. Thanks for coming."

"You know how you said I should start… doing things I want to."

"Yeah," Phil grins, "Start throwing your weight around. You're famous, you can…"

"Do what I want." Dan repeats.

Phil nods and Dan moves a little closer, shuffling in to Phil's personal space.

"Okay," Dan whispers.

Phil's fingers are cold, so cold they tingle when the warmth of Dan's body presses close and they glance of the heat of his waist almost by accident. He doesn't move them away, instead he lets Dan lean in to him, his arms coming to wind around Phil.

They're on the street. Even though it's late at night and they are lit only by the orange glow of a nearby streetlamp, they can still be seen.

This could be more of Dan trying to prove something, saying 'fuck it' and throwing caution to the wind. But Phil can't find it in himself to care if this is just a frivolous thing because he still very much wants it when Dan tips his head to bring his lips to meet Phil's.

He's so warm. Pressed against him fully now, his strong arms around Phil's body. There is a faint buzz of alcohol in them both and Phil knows that it's probably a bad idea to angle himself, lean in to it, kiss back. It's all a bit fuzzy around the edges, drink-warm and loose.

Dan's mouth is plush and wet and his lips are soft and they move with his with such ease. Phil feels his stomach trip over, a hysterical, unbelieving jolt. He doesn't think about the fact that he's kissing a celebrity on a street corner at midnight, but he does think about the fact that he's kissing <i>Dan</i>.

He wants it to go on forever but of course it can't and Dan pulls away, a bit of reluctance threaded through him.

"Sorry," Dan says immediately after, when he pulls back all the way and steps back so his warmth is gone.

"Oh God, don't be sorry!"

Phil wants to pull him back close, feel the solid press of his body along his front and maybe kiss him again.

"It was a bad idea," Dan says, his fingers coming up to rest against his own lips, ghosting the tip of his index finger into the corner of this mouth. "I don't know what I... "

"Dan… no. It's fine. It's okay, I… you've had a drink. So have I."

It was a bad idea. Phil can agree with that, even if it feels like something raw in his chest to say so. It doesn't feel wrong, but he knows it isn't wise. Not when Dan is who he is, when they're outside, when they've been drinking. Not when Dan is looking at him like he's made the biggest mistake ever.

"Yes," Dan nods, numbly, "we've been drinking. And the party... "

"Yeah, the party."

Phil doesn't really know what he's agreeing to, but it's Dan's argument and he's willing to say anything to make Dan stop looking like that.

"Come back to mine?" he asks when Dan doesn't say anything.

Dan shakes his head, "I can't."

"What? Of course you can."

"No I…"

"Dan, this is silly. We don't have to... I want you to come back."

"I can't," Dan shrugs, "I already text my driver, he'll be here in a minute."

"Oh,"

Dan opens his mouth, like he wants to say something more, but he shuts it again, changing his mind.

Around the corner, headlights shine and come closer, a black car pulling in to the side of the road, temporarily blinding Phil.

"You'll still come tomorrow night?" Dan says.

Phil nods.

"You're sure?"

"Of course, Dan. I wouldn't miss it."

"Okay…. Night Phil."

Dan steps away even further, opens the door and gets in to the car. As the door closes, he can see Dan with his fingers back on his lips, a slightly pensive expression on his face.

"Night Dan."


	4. Chapter Four

Phil's reflection knows he's a lucky son of bitch. Or at least, it has that wide- eyed expression he'd come to associate with utter shock and the fully-toothed smile of someone who just can't believe their luck.

A film premiere.

How often had he longed to attend these events, to be slipping into a suit as fancy as this one and mixing with directors and producers and actors? It's funny how things work out. A few short months ago and he couldn't have dreamed he'd be doing anything like this, let alone having his phone buzzing in his pocket with a text from one of the UK's most prominent actors. 

_ I'm outside _ .

Yeah. Life is infinitely more strange than he'd given it credit for. He needs to stop wishing for more.

-

The sleek black car looks alien at the end of his driveway, quite counter to the light cherry-brown of Jimmy's Fiesta parked crookedly, half up on the path from their front door due to lack of space. 

He almost trips on his own feet coming around it, trying to avoid rubbing his fancy new suit up against the dusty paintwork. He catches sight of the streetlamp reflected in the window and notices it is open a crack. 

"Oh," he exclaims, mostly to himself. And then louder, "Hang on, I've just got to--" 

He doesn't know if he's avoiding the inevitable moment he has to see Dan but he jogs back to the house, sticks his head through the front door and snags Jimmy's keys from the table in the hallway where their flat's front door opens. The bedrooms and other rooms are above, but there's a tiny hallway and a door with its own entrance to the building. They have the use of the driveway because no one in the other flats has a car. 

It's a quick effort to unlock the car, wind the window up with that manual mechanism, lock it again and return the keys to the house. 

His next navigation around the car doesn't result in him tripping, or muddying his suit, so he counts it as a win as he slides into the back seat of the awaiting vehicle. 

"All done?" Dan says beside him, bemused in the face of Phil's odd behaviour. 

"Yes," Phil nods.

"Okay."

The driver gives him a quick look in the rearview mirror and Phil half expects it to be Earl. It's not. Dan obviously has more than one person at his beck and call, or maybe this person is hired especially for tonight. He thinks it will make him look foolish to ask, so he doesn't.

Instead, Phil does up his seat belt with excited fingers, and they pull away from the side of the road.

-

Phil is all nerves. The metaphorical kind that swirl like something curdled in his stomach and the very real ones that make him hyper-aware of the small amount of space his long limbs leave between them on the back seat. 

"I feel bad that I'm taking your plus-one to this thing," he says. 

Last night is a fever dream. He remembers that it happened, somehow, that he'd kissed Dan Howell, but it all seems surreal now. The thrumming excitement of tonight makes everything feel different and far away, like that entire scene played out to different people. Characters they were playing for a short while. Phil and his friend Dan who finally kissed. The music should swell, it should fade to black. But it doesn't. It carries on and characters fade and now he's in the dark of a backseat with a movie star and he's never been more keenly aware of how different they are, about all the ways this won't work. Why Dan doesn't want him. Why he didn't stay.

"Who else would I take?"

"I don't know. Someone. Else. Anyone. Anyone you wanted."

Dan shrugs, "Just a lot of people attracted to the bright lights of it and not much else."

"Like moths." It's the only thing he can think to say, it's stupid. 

It earns him a chuckle anyway, which takes him by surprise every time it happens. "Exactly. Not someone you want flitting around you to be honest."

There's a beat of silence while Phil debates the merits of continuing the conversation, not sure if he's straying into some territory that he hasn't yet been allowed. He wants to see though.

"It's a bit of a cynical view. Not everyone is like that."

Dan turns his head then, humming in response which seems like a brush off but Phil knows enough to know that means he's processing it. 

"They're not," he concedes, "But those that aren't don't much want to deal with me and everything that comes with it. I'm unsaveable, which seems to irritate most people who want to save me from my own cynicism. Then there's the other lights. The ones shone on every inch of my life and examined. Like being under a microscope."

Phil grins. "You're mixing your metaphors. Is it a light or a microscope?" 

There's a pout pushing its way faintly onto Dan's lips and he turns back to the window. "It can be both," he insists.

There's a tiny loose thread on the seam of Dan's trousers, near his knee. It's not too noticeable but Phil has the urge to pick it off anyway, the threat of the whole thing unraveling be damned. He reaches over and plucks at it, catching it between his fingernails and tugging until it comes free. No harm done. 

"Just for the record," he says, his voice lower than he intended, quiet and conspiratorial. "I think the right person might not mind at all. You know, the lights and all."

Dan doesn't answer, just keeps his face turned towards the window. Phil can't be sure, but he thinks he see the dimple in his cheek dip for a second in a smile.

-

Phil should have left it at the quiet smile, unacknowledged but heard. He shouldn't press these things but there is an itch under his skin that begs to offer more than that, to make it something more solid. 

They climb out of the car, and it isn't a red carpet or anything like he expected, just a large group of waiting people with recognisable faces and Phil is once again struck by how fucking weird all of this is, like stepping into the pages of a glossy magazine or something.

He steps around the car to the side where Dan is and sidles up next to him. He's swiping at the front of his jacket, removing fluff or something, sorting out any wrinkles gathered from their short car ride. 

Phil leans over, back in to this personal space. He can't stay here, there is the threatening flash of cameras only a few feet away but he needs to say this.

"You're not unsaveable," Phil says, low in his ear. "You don't need saving at all. You're not half as difficult as you pretend to be." 

Dan looks up, half shock half interest, his head cocked slightly. "Is that right?" 

Phil nods defiantly, short sharp and once, stepping backwards out of the way again. "Yup." 

"Alright."

-

They join the fray and wait their turn to do the customary red carpet run. When they make it, Phil stands off to the side, ushered there by someone stern who seems affronted that he isn't someone to be recognised. 

He hovers near another gaggle of people who aren't deemed worthy of note, and Dan shoots him something akin to an apologetic glance as he's swept into the awaiting storm of attention. 

He spends the entire time- around twenty minutes- watching Dan navigate the press and the fans with the detached kind of sarcasm he's so well known for, only now Phil can see the cracks, the joins where his persona knits together with his actual personality. It's a novelty. 

They're heading inside before Phil notices he spent his first- and probably only- red carpet experience watching Dan, and not much else. He can't find it within him to see that as a disappointment.

-

They're in the dark. That isn't new. In the dark with a bunch of other really famous people? That bit is entirely novel. Phil is resisting the urge to bolt over his seat and ask the director he recognises in the third row a bunch of questions. It's a near miss, but he stays in his seat. 

"So we actually just watch the movie?" Phil had asked a few days ago, when preparing for tonight. 

"Yes? What did you think film premieres were for?" 

"I don't know," Phil had answered, "You just kind of see the red carpet and then the famous people go inside and you don't give there rest of it much thought."

"We cease to exist to people once you can't see us," Dan had nodded, "We are but passing fancies. Little 2D people you drag out for entertainment at regular intervals and put back in when you're done." 

"That isn't what I meant at all," Phil had insisted. And he hadn't. 

They'd moved on, but the conversation sticks with him now and he wonders if Dan knows that he sees him as a complete person. One with multiple facets.

There is the red carpet Dan, sarcastic and abrasive, playing up to that public persona he does so well. But there is also Dan in the dark of his living room, and the one whose eyes lit up when Phil gave him beans on toast for the first time, laughing all the time. He's complicated, a little difficult upon occasion, but not 2D, never 2D. 

"I can introduce you afterwards," Dan says from his left, nodding in the direction of the first few rows. 

It takes Phil a while to understand he means the director Phil is still staring at.

"No," Phil squeaks, "I mean, maybe. No. Don't. I wouldn't even know what to--ah."

Dan laughs. It's a low soft sound in Phil's ear where he's close up. It isn't like anything Phil is used to. He should be. But it feels different here, out of the confines of his flat. Like the full weight of who Dan is and what his job entails is finally hitting him. He doesn't mind. He's more concerned about the fact that he's going to trip over his own feet at some point in the evening and make Dan look like an idiot for bringing such a clumsy guest along. 

"You're adorable," Dan says. Phil's heart hammers in his chest and he's sure it's just the nerves for the evening. It has to be. 

"You're wonderful," Phil whispers back. It's stupid, careless, but he means it.

The lights go down a little bit more, and the screen in front of them comes to life. In the dark, Phil feels Dan's fingers glance against his. He doesn't move and neither does Dan.

-

The crab things are delicious but Dan won't try one. 

"I don't like fish," he says, "you know that." 

"But it's amazing!" Phil insists, waving it under his nose. 

The hall is amazing. All silver and white and colour. Too many famous faces he is trying not to look directly at, and too much nervous energy he's currently quelling by shoving handfuls of food from the piles and piles of it on the long table into his mouth. 

Dan, for his part, seems perfectly content to stand here with him, even though Phil insists he should be mingling with the crowd, networking or schmoozing, whatever it is he usually does at these things. This, it turns out, is what he usually does at these things.

He seems off. Oddly tense and quiet. Distant. Phil knows it's probably because this is essentially work, and not only does he have to deal with that he also needs to ensure Phil doesn't show him up. He endeavours to be on his best behaviour, to reign in his fanboy tendencies around all these rich movie stars and quietly eat the food in peace.

Phil is mid-shovel when they're approached by a third party.

"Should have known I'd find you by the food," she says, "though this is a step up from the craft services we had on this one isn't it?"

"God yeah," Dan nods, smiling that professional smile of his, "What was that guy's obsession with melon slices. Like, we get it, there's melon, stop telling us." 

"Just wanted to make sure you got your five a day I guess." 

They share a laugh before she looks over at Phil. 

"Oh," Dan says, remembering himself. "This is Phil Lester a very talented amateur director. Phil Lester this is--"

"Annie Shriver," Phil interjects.

"Yes," Dan laughs, looking over at Phil and not at Annie, "the director of the film we just watched." 

She offers a laugh and a hand to Phil who takes it and shakes it. Her grip is firm, she's a powerhouse. He studied her last term, her main work anyway, but he's seen everything she's ever done. 

"Can I just say that I loved Paper Dog?" 

"Oh," she smiles.

"I mean, this film was good too. It was," he turns to Dan, "You were good. Everyone was good. It was good. I just…" 

He sighs. This isn't how he'd thought meeting a famous director would go but then, he should have known it couldn't be any better.

"I'd hate it if I missed the chance to tell you how much I liked it." 

"Well, thank you." Her face goes sort of warm and delighted. "I love that film. I know you shouldn't have favourites, especially not when you're promoting the most recent one, but… well, it was such a small project in the grand scheme that has such a special place in my heart. I didn't think anyone really remembered it to be honest." 

Dan is smiling next to him and Phil turns a weird shade of pink. 

"Well Daniel, I have to go beg money from the studio. Once awards season is over we'll talk, yes? Let's not made this the last time we work together."

"Sure," Dan says, offering a hand to shake. 

"And there's a gathering at Jack's later, you should come along." She grins and turns to Phil, planting a small hand on his arm, "And bring your charming date, will you? Always lovely to meet the emerging talent." 

"I will," Dan nods. 

When she's gone, her black dress slinking back into the crowds, Phil turns to Dan. 

"I can't believe you told her I was a director," Phil groans, "She thinks I'm somebody." 

"You are somebody." 

"No, like, she thinks I'm like… you know. Because I'm here with you. She thinks that it's a… thing. Not just… you know, whatever this is." 

Dan gets strange, tense look on his face. His mouth a straight line, a terse pinch to his brow. 

"Firstly, no one in this room is anything special. Everyone was just faking it in the beginning, playing the game and pretending they know what the fuck they're doing. They're just people, Phil." 

"I know that I--" 

"Secondly, you are talented. I told you that. You just need to believe in yourself a little more. This is… I invited you here because I wanted to. It's… whatever you want it to be." 

Phil doesn't know how to reply to that so he doesn't. He picks up another crab puff and pops it in his mouth.

"You should really try them," he says.

"Maybe later."

-

Dan starts to get antsy somewhere around midnight. The premiere winds down in the current location and people start drifting to after parties. The house of the famous 'Jack' - who turns out to be Jack Howard, award-winning script writer- seems to be the favourite destination, but Dan doesn't seem in favour of going anywhere.

"That's… not a thing I do." He says, "I can cope with all of this in small doses, when I have to but… it's not really my style." 

"Oh." Phil replies, "Okay." 

"I'm sorry you're disappointed," Dan follows up, "I know I promised you a night of glitz and glamour but…" 

He sighs, he looks like he's gearing up for something. 

"It's fine," Phil insists, "Let's just go." 

They're on the pavement, surrounded by paparazzi and security when Dan turns to him finally, a rush of words and flailing arms and it seems like he's been building up to this.

"I know you probably wanted this to end differently. And I want to be the fun, glamorous celebrity you want me to be. I want to take you to parties and show you the glitz and sparkles and all of that but… I'm not like that. I'd much rather stay at home and order pizza and… well." 

"I…"

"Don't, Phil." Dan asks, firmly. He sighs, Phil doesn't know why. "God I wanted tonight to be different. I don't know what I thought… but you're just… you're…"

"I don't understand where this is coming from." 

The car pulls up, Dan strides forward looking pensive and Phil follows behind, unsure what the hell the going on, where all of this came from. Everything had been fine. Dan had seemed slightly tense all night, but Phil had put that down to him being there, to being an unknown element. 

He makes his way through the flashing lights and the colour, and wonders what on earth is going on. 

-

When they're in the back seat, Dan finally starts again. 

"I asked you to the premiere tonight because I wanted to say thank you." 

"I know."

"But not just that. I wanted to… show you what it's like. I wanted you to like it." 

"Um," Phil fastens his seatbelt and folds his hands in his lap. "I did like it." 

"I wanted you to like being there with me." 

Phil sucks in a breath, heart hammering. He still doesn't get it but it feels thick, like there's another layer he doesn't understand. 

"You were the best thing about tonight." He says, low and quiet.

Dan groans. "That's just it. You keep saying things like that. Like you think I'm a good person and I'm not Phil, I'm not." 

"You are you--" 

"No." Dan insists, "Not like you. You're the type of person who stops to wind your roommate's car window up, you know obscure movies from well known directors, you find joy in crab puffs from the same damn buffet I've eaten at every event I've ever been to and you just look so damn happy about it all."

"I'm… sorry?" Phil says. 

Dan lets out a sound halfway between a sigh and another groan and he twists in his seat, flopping backwards. 

"You don't need to be sorry." 

"Then what do I need to be?" 

"Nothing," Dan says softly, "Don't ever pretend to be anything other than exactly what you are."

Phil shifts in his seat. He's never felt more out of place and awkward than he does now. He's in the backseat of a fancy car with a fancy celebrity and he's trying to be mindful of that but all he can see is Dan. 

Dan who scribbles in his notebook and whose eyes light up when he knows the answer in class. Dan who likes anime and eats the last slice of pizza. Just Dan.

"I think you're brilliant and talented." Dan murmurs. His voice is so low and quiet that Phil barely hears him. "So talented you could be coming to these things alone one day never mind with me. I want you to. You're kind and you're sweet and weird and funny and… seeing that just makes me realise how unsaveable I am. How jaded and cynical and spoilt." 

"Dan…" 

"I won't ever want to go to the after party. I won't eat the crab puffs, I won't know the director's movies, I'll fake a smile on the red carpet and I'll probably always be arrogant and dismissive no matter how much I try. I can't be good enough for you, Phil."

Good enough for what? Phil wonders. This was all over anyway. 

He wishes he could tell Dan that he shouldn't act like anything other than what he is either. That he isn't any of the horrible, awful things he thinks about himself. But he's just Phil, just some random student that happened to go on a gameshow. It's crazy how far removed he is from all of this, and how little it will all mean in the grand scheme of things.

Dan finally speaks, his voice flat and monotone. 

"I think it's for the best if I just take you home and have that be the end of it." 

And it is the end of it.


	5. Chapter Five

Jimmy comes to his room and drops down onto his bed afterwards. 

Phil is still in his shirttails of a suit he didn't pay for, his shiny shoes are hanging off the end of his bed and his tie is choking him where his head is turned sideways on his pillow. 

He wants the gossip. He wants Phil to recount the many famous faces he's seen, to live vicariously through Phil's stories of the time he'd almost touched greatness. 

Phil doesn't do any of that. 

Instead, he stays silent until Jimmy leaves him alone. 

-

On Monday he almost turns towards the library automatically but he makes himself turn down a different street instead. It adds five minutes onto his commute but at least he doesn't have to miss the feeling of a hot coffee cup in his hand.

-

People have stopped looking at him wherever he goes and he's grateful. Jimmy still looks at him a little too closely though, and he hates it when Phil comes home and locks himself in his room without saying a word. 

It can't go on forever, but for now Phil just needs a little time.

-

After about a week of it, Jimmy snaps. 

"I'm not having it anymore," he says, "get up."

"I am up," Phil complains, "I've been up."

"You're walking around, Phil, but you're not really awake are you? This isn't living."

Phil stretches his feet out where they've been bent underneath him. He puts down the laptop, playing yet another movie he's seen hundreds of times. 

"I'm fine." 

"You're not," Jimmy says, sitting heavily on the end of Phil's bed without waiting to be invited. "Come to a party with me." 

"No thanks." 

"The library then?" 

Phil screws up his nose. Somehow, that's worse.

"Alright, we'll start with coffee. Maybe work our way up to a drink? Either way Phil… you've got to get out." 

"Fine," Phil says, standing and hunting for the shoes he knows he kicked off underneath his desk, "If it will shut you up."

-

Coffee is okay, and he only thinks of the morning cup Dan used to give him once. They try a drink in a pub the night after and Jimmy even invites some friends along and everything is fine. 

The next weekend Phil goes to a party and he flirts with a girl with red hair and green eyes and doesn't flinch when she asks him about the time he met Dan Howell. 

After a few weeks, it's almost as if he's forgotten, it's almost as if life goes back to normal.

Then he's sat in the back of a lecture hall and he hears someone say Dan's name in the row behind his.

-

"What do you mean they're filming?" 

"I dunno," the guy says, "I just heard some construction guys talking about it this morning. They've closed up Mercer building for it. The new Dan Howell film is being shot there."

"Oh my god." 

"Not worth trying it mate, I tried to talk to someone about getting some experience on set but they've closed it all up." 

He's got a pair of those low-slung wide legged jeans on and a t-shirt about three sizes too big. Phil thought that kind of fashion got left back in the nineties but here he is. At least his hair is pulled into some kind of bun on his head instead of being spiked with frosted tips but, it's a near thing. 

"Yeah," Phil says. "Cheers." 

He turns back around in his seat for a second but his head is pounding and he feels restless. He shoves his notebook back in his bag and stands up. He doesn't stay for the lecture.

-

Mercer building is on the other side of campus and he doesn't really have any reason to go over there but he does anyway. 

They've put up bollards and tape in a wide perimeter and there is some kind of scaffolding being erected. There are about six or seven people wearing high-vis jackets milling around and Phil walks straight up to the first one he finds. 

"Excuse me," he says, trying to keep his voice casual, "Is it true what they're saying? Is there a film being shot here?" 

"You'll have to clear the area sonny," the guy says with a gruff voice, not even turning to look at him. 

"No, I'm not a fan... " Phil says, realising how ridiculous he sounds. "I'm a film student. I just… I'm interested."

"God, another one." he turns around, a clipboard in his hand. "We had one of your lot this morning sniffing around. I told him what I'll tell you. We don't offer work experience on the movie set, alright? Now clear off!" 

Phil nods and makes himself scarce. He doesn't think he wants to stay anyway, he suddenly feels sick. 

-

He checks on the internet as soon as he gets in, as though he can't help himself. A simple search is all it takes for him to find out the latest project Dan Howell is listed as being a _'in production'_ with on IMDB is a movie about a university student. 

Using the name of the film, he finds it's based on a book. A coming-of-age coming-out-of-the-closet film by an indie writer being adapted by an indie director Phil thinks he might recognise the name of. Not Dan's usual style but it does look like something Phil would usually endeavour to watch. 

He's oddly proud of Dan. He has no place to be, but it's there, all fluttering and warm in his belly. 

He checks some fan forums and finds the shooting location for the film has changed from London to Manchester. Something about a budget decision. 

There's some speculation that Daniel Howell hadn't been happy with the decision despite it being near where he lives. 

Phil can understand why.

-

The entire problem with Jimmy is that it's all his fault. Or at least, Phil is still clinging to it being his fault. That, and he won't ever let Phil get away with his shit for too long. Wouldn't let him mope in peace and now he won't drop it once he's heard the news. 

"So you're not going to go down there?" 

"Why would I go down there?"

"I don't know…" Jimmy says, his feet on the edge of the coffee table, socks toes curling against the wood. "To… see him?" 

"He doesn't want to see me." 

"Do you want to see him?"

Phil turns back to his laptop, looks over at his textbook. Anything to ignore Jimmy's insistent stare pinpointed on his temple. 

"Phil." 

"For God's sake Jim," Phil says, shoving his laptop and books on to the coffee table a little too roughly. It makes a loud bang that startles him. Them both. Probably. 

"Do you?" 

Jimmy is relentless. Phil hates him a little bit. 

"It doesn't matter whether I want to see him." 

Once Jimmy gets an idea in his head though, there's no stopping him. He's just so stubborn.

"Why wouldn't it matter? It has to matter."

Phil sighs. 

"What do you want me to say? That I do want to see him? That I'm all hung up on some movie star? What good will that do?" 

"Might make you feel better," Jimmy says pointedly, getting up from the couch. 

"Well it makes me feel awful." 

"Of course it does. That's the first part of feeling better. Tea?" 

Phil shakes his head. "Can I have a coffee?"  
"You can have whatever you want Phil, you've just got to ask for it."

Jimmy thinks he's so smooth. He's not.

-

He doesn't go down there for Jimmy. 

He doesn't go down there for himself either, or Dan. He just… goes. 

There are more people there this time and loads more cars and trailers and buses and god knows what else parked over on the far side. They've completely blocked the road, Phil doesn't know how they'd go about getting permission for something like this. 

It's like something out of a crazy dream. 

There's also a little crowd gathering, of course there is. He can't be the only crazy fan to find out where this was being filmed, it's not like it was hard. 

Against his better judgement he approaches the gathered people and finds himself up against the barrier they've erected, cramped in next to two girls who are talking quickly, barely any gaps between their words. 

"Do you think he's here?" 

"Of course he's here. They must be filming some of the outdoor shots today, it's supposed to rain the rest of the week." 

They crane their heads just a little bit, as if they could see any more than they already can by doing so. 

"I cannot believe Dan freaking Howell is on our uni campus." 

"Well, if you believe the rumours he's been here for ages doing research." 

"Shut up Zee, there's no way that's true." 

"Simone said she saw him in the cafeteria." 

"Simone is a fucking idiot."

Phil can't listen to them any more. They're talking about Daniel Howell, he realises. And that's not who Dan is to him. 

This is no good. Jimmy is wrong, it won't make him feel better to be down here and--what? View him from a distance? Get thrown out when Dan spots him and wants him removed? 

Just so he's sure Dan really meant it when he said that was the end of it.

It is the end of it, and it's best if Phil leaves it that way. He had a brief encounter, flew close to the sun for one blazing hot moment and now he's plummeting. And that's okay. It's how it should be for mere mortals. 

He pushes his way back through the crowd and leaves.

-

Phil is so distracted on the way back home that he walks past the library without thinking. It's not that he's been avoiding it, he's just… not been going there. At all. 

He's half way up the road when he realises but he doesn't want to double back so he convinces himself he's being stupid. Even more so when he thinks he recognises the curve of a familiar shoulder blade walking up the steps to the library door. 

He puts his head down and ignores the man in the black beanie and leather jacket, the scarf streaming out behind him which is just the right shade of steel grey to make his stomach lurch.

"Phil!"

He's almost at the corner, he just need to keep walking, keep his head down, and he can make it home without having to--

"Phil!"

"Shit," he says, mostly to himself, and then out of no where he's suddenly no longer sad. He's not overcome with melancholy at the thought of losing Dan, he isn't suddenly irrationally happy that Dan is here, presumably looking for him, or maybe just by accident. He's just mad, a furious rod of something deep and dark and angry pulsing through him. "what do you want?" 

"Phil. I wanted…" 

He comes back down the stairs almost at a run and he has a stupid adorable curl poking out of the ribbing on his beanie and it's laying soft and lovely on his forehead. Phil hates it.

"What, Dan? What do you want?"

"Just. I don't … I don't know. I didn't expect you to be here. Not really."

"Then I'll go," Phil says. "That'll solve all your problems."

To his credit he does turn around, and he does take a few steps away but Dan skirts around him, blocking his path. 

"Don't go."

Phil rolls his eyes. Why is this happening? Dan has shifted from one thing to another so quickly that Phil has whiplash just trying to keep up. He said it was over, that was the end of it. Now here he is. 

"This isn't fair Dan, you can't do this."

"I thought you said I could do what I wanted."

"Not this…" he says, "Not this Dan you're… it isn't fair. To me."

"I don't mean to be unfair."

"I know," Phil says, "But you are. I don't want to be part of your little celebrity tantrum."

Dan sucks in a short breath and stares at him. Phil takes it as licence to continue, words falling from him that he didn't know were trapped back there. Somehow they keep coming and Phil realises that he means them.

I don't want to be some sort of concept to you. Just an experiment where you dip your toe in to normal life to see whether the temperatures right. Hot and cold isn't going to cut it here. Just… when you've made up your mind…" 

Dan flinches when Phil brushes his shoulder, slightly harder than he intends, as he moves past.

"When you've decided what you mean, then maybe we can be friends. But not before."

When he leaves this time, Dan lets him go.


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! 
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me.
> 
> Just a note, the contents of this chapter mean that this fic is now E rated. I didn't originally intent it to be but I wrote it and I didn't hate it so it stayed. 
> 
> You might also have seen that I hinted I might have written an epilogue for this fic but I decided against it. I just put all the stuff I would have written in that on the end of this because I would have just been dragging it out for the sake of it. 
> 
> I hope you've enjoyed the fic, come say hi on [Tumblr](http://agingphangirl.tumblr.com) if you did!

He hides in his room. He's not proud of it but the whole encounter has him a bit shaken. Not from nerves or any kind of lingering sentiment, just because he's mad. 

Dan is presumptuous and a damn idiot and Phil still can't help how breathtaking he finds his stupid dimple and everything else. He's mad at Dan, at himself, and at Jimmy who interrupts all of this by shouting up the stairs from the front door, and across the flat. 

"Phil!"

Phil does his best to ignore him, pretend he isn't there, but he's pretty sure he slammed his door on the way in so he doesn't get away with it really. 

"Phil you have a visitor."

Jimmy's voice is kind of sing-song and he's already heard the door closing so Jimmy has obviously let them in. He doesn't need more than one guess to work out who it might be.

He should have known, it's just his style.

"I'm going to go," Jimmy says when Phil reaches the top of the landing. He's walked their guest up most of the way, having only just got to the top of the stairs himself, but he takes one look at the expression on Phil's face and turns back around. 

Once Jimmy is gone, there's no way around it.

"Why are you here?" 

"Because," Dan says, a tension in his shoulders so great even Phil can see it. "You don't get to do this either, Phil." 

"Excuse me?"

"I'm figuring things out. I told you that. I haven't… I don't know what the fuck I'm doing. I don't have any experience with this." 

"And I do? You think I snog film stars all the time?" 

"That's just it," Dan says, "You keep looking at it like that. Like it's about all of the fame stuff when it's not. I'm just over here thinking about how I don't snog _anyone_. Ever. No one I like anyway."

"You are so annoying." 

Phil is exasperated. He can't work out what any of this means and Dan is no help. All he knows is that Dan had kissed him, then Dan had left, they'd had a nice evening at the premiere, and then Dan had left. Phil had done something to make him leave and he can't work out what it is if it's not the whole movie star thing.

"I know. Look, this is the whole reason I came here. I didn't want you to think… Look, I did like you. Do like you. But that's the whole problem because I'm not… I haven't got everything worked out. I told you… I'm no good for you."

Phil feels the laugh start low in his stomach. It builds until he's laughing out loud, his shoulders shaking. 

"What?" Dan says, looking annoyed that Phil has interrupted his reverie.

"Is it an actor thing?" He asks, "or just a you thing?" 

"Is what an actor thing?" 

"This whole…" he waves a hand between them, "cryptic pretentious drama queen thing."

Dan's mouth drops open with a noise of disagreement. "Oi."

"No," Phil insists, "Listen. You're making it like… into this huge _thing_. I like you. I really like you, how could I not?"

Dan bristles.

Phil has lost count of the number of times he's said the word 'thing'. It's a good job they're not dealing in specifics.

"And not because of the celebrity status or the fancy parties, Dan…. I like you because you sit on my couch and enjoy beans on toast while watching anime. You liked my films and said I was talented even though I'm objectively not. You bring me coffee in the mornings and make me laugh and you're never on time but you contribute in class. I really like you."

"You shouldn't." 

There it is again. That whole mess Phil doesn't understand.

"What are you even talking about?" 

"I told you," Dan says, "you deserve better than this. Better than me." 

"Oh for fuck's--" Phil throws up his hands.

He glares over at Dan, all parted lips and reddened cheeks. He looks sullen and stubborn and everything Phil knew he would be. Phil wants to kiss him, despite himself. But he also wants to shake him. 

"I like you," Dan says. 

His voice is small, so small and quiet that Phil barely hears it. 

"Come on," Phil says, trying not to put too much stock in it.

Instead he leads them to the kitchen and refuses to let Dan say anything more until he's made them both coffee, until they're sat on his couch. Until Dan is back on that side of the room where he belongs. 

Phil has left his notebook on the arm of the couch and Dan picks up his pen, doodles absentmindedly in the margins. Phil places his steaming mug on the coffee table and looks at it for a second, contemplating.

"Can we have this conversation like adults? Without all the drama?"

"I'm not _trying_ to be dramatic," Dan says, his head bent over.

"No," Phil agree, grinning ruefully, "I believe you genuinely don't think you are. But look at us, Dan, this is some third-act love declaration shit." 

Dan looks up, finally.

"This isn't a movie, Phil." 

"That's exactly what I'm trying to tell you." 

Dan sighs and wraps his hands around his coffee. "So what happens now, in the non-movie. In the real-life adult version?"

"You know I'm not sure," Phil says, "I'm not really great at the whole adult thing usually. But, I mean, we like each other right?"

"Yes."

"So it really doesn't have to be complicated." 

Dan shakes his head, raises the cup to his lips before realising the coffee is still too hot to drink and puts it back down on the table, next to Phil's.

"It has to be a little bit complicated," he insists, "It doesn't feel… easy." 

"No," Phil says, "this doesn't feel easy at all. I'm just trying to understand _why_ it doesn't."

Dan picks the pen back up. He pauses with it poised over the paper, not meeting Phil's eyes. 

Phil sits, because all this hovering really isn't doing them any favours. 

He reaches over and puts his hand overtop of Dan's, stilling the pen. There are too many thick black lines across the notepad, too many formless shapes of things Phil can't work out. 

"Dan." 

His skin is warm. His fingers stop moving and Phil feels it when he drops the pen, but he doesn't move his hand. 

"I didn't want you to be an experiment. Or a concept. That's the whole point. I knew this would be the real thing, and my life doesn't exactly make way for that. It's not easy, or simple." Dan lets out the smallest gasp as Phil runs a thumb over his knuckles. "I'm scared, Phil." 

He's so close and Dan is still so warm. He'd had that stupid beanie on when he came in but he's taken it off and his hair is fluffy and curly underneath and Phil wonders if it's only for the movie. 

He realises that Dan isn't leaving, he's running. Trying to protect himself, or Phil or… both of them. He doesn't get it, he can't get it.

"Me too," he whispers, and takes a chance. "But you can't keep running away."

The second time they kiss Phil gives as good as he gets. Dan is soft and warm but Phil pushes at him, nudging him backwards so that they're crowded against the arm of the couch, backed up so that Phil is almost in his lap. 

He tries to push it all into the kiss, to make Dan feel what he's feeling, to make his stomach trip over and his head get dizzy because that's what it's like for Phil. He feels so fucking lucky and it has absolutely nothing to do with Dan's job. 

"It's you," he says into the tiny space between them, Dan capturing his lips before he's all the way through the words. "It's just you, Dan… that's all I want. I don't care about the rest of it or how hard it is."

Dan makes a breathy kind of noise and pulls Phil closer, his arm around his waist, hoisting him to to sit fully across Dan's thighs. Dan has to angle his head back now, chasing his mouth. 

"You scare the fucking hell out of me," Dan breathes, "I've never…" 

He doesn't finish, but he does slip a hand under Phil's shirt to clutch on his bare skin. Phil shudders and moves a hand up to cup Dan's jaw just so, fingers curved around under his ear, his thumb pressed to the place on Dan's cheek he knows dimples when he smiles. 

"I know," Phil whispers, "I can't believe you even…" 

He can't stop kissing him. They get half way through sentences, cut off by the meeting of their mouths over and over. Dan's hands rove over Phil's skin, blunt fingernails scratching lightly and Phil can't seem to catch his breath. He's fully seated in Dan's lap now, looking down at him from his viewpoint as Dan tips his head backwards and gazes up at him, breathless and flushed. Dan's legs are up on the couch behind him, stretched out across the cushions and Phil hears the notebook slide off the arm of the couch and hit the floor with a thud. 

"Are we moving too fast?" Phil asks

"Ugh, God," Dan says, his fingers shifting underneath Phil's clothes, "I don't care." 

Phil lets out something close to a growl and tips Dan's head backwards to bare his long neck. He leans down to breathe in the scent of him there and grazes his teeth along Dan's throat. 

"Oh shit," Dan says, laughing at himself slightly.

"Good?" Phil says, licking slightly and kissing all the way up to underneath his ear. 

"H-Yeah," Dan says, and Phil can hear the smile. 

Dan's hands shift, dragging fingers upwards over Phil's shoulder blades, his shirt following, up over his head until his bare chest is exposed to the cold of the room. Dan looks at him. 

"I didn't think I was allowed to want you," Dan says. "My whole life has been mapped out and everyone before you has either only wanted me for the fame or not wanted me because of it. I'm not allowed… I don't deserve…"

"Dan," Phil says, leaning back to slip his hands under Dan's shirt and tug it up over his head. 

Dan raises his arms, his fingers leaving Phil's skin for only a second. Until his shirt is free and he runs palms down Phil's shoulders again. Phil presses forward until they are bare chest to bare chest, soft and warm and close. His heart beats a million miles an hour and he hopes Dan can't feel it. 

"Dan you can do whatever you want."

They kiss again, Phil pulled in by Dan's flat palm between his shoulder blades and one now curved around his hip. Phil shifts forward to get a better angle and Dan groans into his mouth. It takes him a second to realise why but when he does he smiles into the kiss. 

He can feel his own excitement, a warm hot sensation getting tight and uncomfortable in his jeans and when he rolls his hips again it send a frisson of something spiked and searing through his abdomen. It's been a long time since this, not too long but long enough that his breathing feels a little laboured already. He's so pent up and Dan clutching him tightly isn't doing anything to help with that.

"I want…"

Dan's voice is deep and dark in Phil's ear, he's dipping his head to nose down Phil's throat, teeth scraping slightly. Phil should be ashamed of the noise he makes, or the way he thrusts forward yet again, but he isn't. 

"Anything, Dan. Anything."

He sounds desperate. Because maybe he is. And he isn't thinking about sleeping with a celebrity or having a story to tell tomorrow, all he can think about is how good Dan's hands feel running down over his waist, how he eases him backwards and fumbles with the button on Phil's jeans. 

Dan grins at him and pops the button. 

"I'd really like to suck you off now."

There's that arrogant smirk, the full kilowattage of his smile aimed in Phil's direction and all he can do is nod pathetically and lift himself off Dan's lap. 

He settles back against the sofa as Dan drops to his knees and uses his hands to shift Phil's knees, crawling between them. Phil swallows and gazes down at him, not quite believing this is all happening. Dan looks damn good on his knees. 

Dan eases the zipper down on his jeans, tugging them down. Phil lifts his hips to make it easier and all too soon the cool air of the room is hitting his hard, heated cock as it bobs free of his underwear. Dan licks his lips and flicks his eyes up to Phil. 

"Have you done this before?" 

Phil doesn't know why he's asking that. Except that he can't stand the thought of Dan doing something he doesn't really want to, just because he thinks he should or something. Or feels like he has to. 

"Yes," Dan assures him.

"Do we need a…" he trails off, it's an awkward conversation but what is left of his rational brain tells him it's definitely one they need to have. 

"I'm clean," Dan says. "You?"

"Yes. I'm… yeah. Me too." 

"Do you want one anyway?" 

Phil considers it. "Not if you don't… better clean up?"

"Don't worry about that," Dan winks, looking back towards Phil's cock as though he can't bear to look away. "I like it." 

He's gone a little glassy eyed so Phil has no trouble believing that Dan does love it. He doesn't move straight away, simply shuffles in a little closer, hands ghosting up the sensitive inside of Phil's thighs sending electric shocks across his skin. He thinks the torture of waiting will kill him and Dan waits a few more slow, painful seconds before bending his head and sinking his hot wet mouth around Phil in one swift motion. 

"Shit, Dan." Phil says on an in-breath, sucking in air and tightening the muscles of his stomach as he flinches at the pure raw feeling of it all. 

Dan lifts his head a little, letting Phil's cock drag over the plush velvety inside of his bottom lip, his tongue following up on the underside and flicking over and around the tip. Phil moans, breathy and loud and Dan's eyes shift up to look at him. 

"Fuck." Phil says.

Dan looks like he'd be smiling if his mouth wasn't full. 

"You're… yeah." 

He's having trouble coordinating his mouth and brain to make sentences that have any function. Dan doesn't seem to mind, simply bobs his head, hands squeezing the top of Phil's thighs, hands so large that he can reach down with his thumbs and drag one lightly across Phil's balls. 

Phil moans again and can't keep his head up and his abs tensed to keep him upright. He flops back, his head falling down on the back of the sofa. He squeezes his eyes shut tight until stars burst behind his eyelids, listening to the wet skin on skin sound of Dan's mouth sucking at him. 

He can't help but slide a hand down his own chest, across his belly, landing in the soft pile of fluff that is Dan's curls. They crawl around his fingers, twining between them as if his hands belongs there, fits right in amidst the mess. 

"I'm--" Phil says, tugging lightly. 

He's trying to warn Dan that it won't be much longer, which is embarrassing to say the least. But it sort of feels as if every moment since he met Dan has been pure build-up, torturous foreplay. It feels as if now he's come full circle from the moment they won the game show with a pop of noise and burst of confetti - right now, with Dan on his knees, making soft moans against his cock, he feels as if he's hit the jackpot all over again. 

He doesn't want it over yet. 

"Hey, hey," he says, a hand nudging at Dan's shoulder until he pulls his mouth off, a delicious drag of slick wetness as he slides off. 

Dan looks up at him questioningly until Phil beckons him up. He smiles at that, standing and shuffling over towards where Phil is sitting. 

"Want you closer," Phil says, reaching for the button on Dan's jeans. "Want to touch you." 

"That can be arranged," Dan quips as Phil tugs at his jeans, zip sliding downwards and the waistband slipping down over the curve of his arse.

Dan kicks them off, he's inelegant, stumbling so that he almost topples but Phil reaches out for him, closing a hand around the soft skin of his hip, above the line of his boxers. He tugs him upright first, then over, so that Dan falls with one leg either side of Phil's to straddle him. 

He lands a little sharply, and Phil makes a noise as a huff of breath leaves his lungs. They laugh, the warm sound of Dan's giggle filling the air and Phil is overcome with how easy all of this is, how comfortable and simple it is to have Dan like this. It feels right in a way he wasn't expecting.

Phil puts his other hand on Dan's other hip, just holding him steady for a moment, gazing at the way his lips have gone red, shiny and slick with saliva. He meets Dan in the middle as he dips his head, swiping his tongue along the plush cushion of his bottom lip and biting softly. 

"Fuck." Dan shudders bodily and Phil feels it all over him right down to where Dan's arse is pressed down firmly on his erection. He thrusts upwards gently, just feeling the way Dan's body adds friction against him, the warmth and weight of him. 

"Phil…" Dan warns, and Phil moves his mouth to the skin of Dan's neck.

He mouths at it a little as Dan makes a sound that is half-gasp half-plea. Phil grins at the way Dan's skin turns an attractive pink under his ministrations and finally gives in, sliding a hand into the warm confines of Dan's underwear and grasping at the length of him. 

He is hot and hard in his hand, silky skin turned damp with the rising sweat where Dan is getting worked up. 

Dan moans above him, head tipped forward, curls getting damp with sweat at their base as they swing on to his forehead in soft waves. Phil leans in to capture his mouth once again. Dan is shuffling back a little, putting some space between them so that he can reach down and wrap his own hand around Phil. 

Their wrists knock together, uncoordinated strokes and shifts of their chests as they are both experiencing heavy breathing until Dan is urging Phil's hand away. 

There is a second where Phil is momentarily disappointed as Dan's hand leaves his cock and his own hand is moved away. But Dan rearranged them, slides his cock alongside Phil's and thrusts a little, sliding skin wet with precum against more feverish warm skin. 

It is Phil's turn to moan, almost pained at how good it feels. His hand drifts upward, ghosting over the hard tensed solidness of Dan's thigh to feel when the muscle along the side of Dan's arse flexes as he thrusts again. 

It's both too much and not enough. The sensation of being pressed this close is phenomenal but there isn't quite enough friction, so that every roll of Dan's hips is fraught with a frisson of something torturous. 

Phil keeps one hand on the dip of Dan's back, fingers splayed over the curve of his flesh while the other comes up to wrap around them both. It's soft skin encasing hard, firm jut of pleasure and Phil groans at the contact of his own rough palm. 

Dan is quick on the uptake, coming to cover the space around them that Phil's hand won't reach, his had so large it spans over Phil's fingers, squeezing gently to create a luscious tight space for them to slip through. Dan thrusts his hips again, pushing them through their joined hands but also rubbing himself up against Phil. 

They both let out an obscene noise and then let matching smiles press together in something akin to a kiss. They are smiling, mouths seeking each other out, trying to kiss but mostly missing, just breathing into each other space, tongue flicking uncoordinated and haphazard as they continue to move together. 

It doesn't take Phil long to get back to the brink and Dan, breathy and letting out short sharp bursts of sound with every other thrust, must be close behind. 

"I'm nearly…" Phil gasps. 

"Y-Yeah," Dan nods, his other arm resting on Phil's shoulder, using it for leverage as he moves his hips, rolling them in even, rhythmic thrusts. "yeah… yeah. Me too." 

Dan sounds cracked, his voice is a little choked and slightly higher pitched and Phil can't hold on once he hears it. He groans once, dropping his head to Dan's chest and breathing in hot, damp air from between them and thrusts his hips up one last time, automatically tightening his hand against them both. 

Dan responds by tightening his own hand and it's enough to send Phil over the edge. He can feel himself pulse against Dan and the pool of blinding hot spark of sensation hits him in the abdomen as he comes. 

Dan looks at him, teeth biting on to one side of his bottom lip, eyes wide and glassy. 

"Fuck," he says, simply. "That was…" 

Phil smiles as he comes down, gazing up at him and adjusting so that he slips out from between their hands. There is added slickness now and he bats Dan's hand out of the way, fully seating Dan's eager awaiting length in his hand. 

"Your turn," he grins and Dan moans. 

Dan sits back, leaning so that his back arches away from Phil and Phil can slide him through his fist, smooth and slippery. 

"Ah, Ah!" Dan chants and Phil can't look away as his eyes slip shut and the flat plane of his chest stretches back. Phil runs a hand down his skin, glancing off a nipple, keeping his hand moving. 

He knows when Dan is close, he sucks in a breath and holds it a little, letting it out in staccato pants. His chest is a fascinating shade of red, flushed all the way down to nearly his bellybutton, a sheen of sweat coating him. He's beautiful and he's coming apart under Phil's hands. 

Phil feels the moment when his abs tense and he comes, thick spurts of it spilling over Phil's fist. Phil keeps stroking until Dan pulls away, just slightly, overstimulated and breathing heavily. 

"Oh my god," Dan says, righting himself again, dipping his head to press a single short kiss against Phil's mouth, framing his bottom lip with both of his, a wet smacking sound as they part. "that was…" 

"Yeah," Phil says. 

"I…" Dan glances down at the mess and laughs, "So much for easier clean up." 

Phil groans, "Oh god. Jimmy is going to kill me if he knows we did this on the couch." 

Dan kisses him again, short and sweet and lifts himself off Phil's lap. He looks so wonderful that Phil has to swallow harshly and keep his comments to himself. 

"Wait here," Dan says, pulling his underwear back on. 

He disappears for a moment and arrives back with a handful of kitchen roll and Phil rolls his eyes fondly. 

"Listen to me about the clean up next time," Phil says. 

"Next time?" Dan asks. 

Phil pauses, cleaned up and shimmying back into his own pant, looking up at Dan through his fringe. 

"I mean… I thought… sorry. I shouldn't have presumed… I mean…" 

"Stop," Dan says, moving in close and sliding his arms around Phil's shoulders. "I'll listen to you next time." 

Phil kisses him, relief flooding through him. It start small, but there is lingering heat between them, thrumming in his skin. They're both still shirtless and Phil can't get enough of the feel of Dan's skin, that warm softness of him. 

"I need to shower," Dan says as they part. 

"You can shower here," Phil says. "Do you need to be back on set today?" 

Dan pauses, shaking his head after a moment. "No." 

"Are you sure?" 

"It won't matter if I don't go," Dan says, "They're not my scenes, it'd just be me feeding lines which is like… not a thing everyone does anyway. Besides… I'm sick of doing as I'm told, Phil. I'm just going to do something I _want_ for a change." 

"And what is it you want to do?" 

"I want to stay here… with you. Is that okay?" 

Phil smiles, "It's more than okay, Dan. You can stay as long as you like." 

"You mean that?" 

Phil nods, "Yes, Dan. Stay. Please." 

If there was a moment Phil would want to freeze frame, if there was a scene he could blow up large on a movie screen it would be this one. The moments that follow as they both shower, and Dan slips into a hoodie Phil owns and under Phil's arm on the couch like he belongs there. 

It'd be the moment that he notes, with delight, that Dan's hair isn't' for the movie, that it's just his natural style. The way Phil's hand drifts in to it easily as they watch something on TV, quiet and comfortable. 

It'd be the moment when Dan turns to him later and says that for the first time, he feels like this is what it would be like to be normal. 

"Really?" Phil says, "Because to me, this is what it feels like to be extraordinary."

It is those moments and millions that follow. If Phil were to cut the scenes of their lives he wouldn't know what to edit out. He wants to keep it all, their single perfect narrative arc that never goes the way he thinks it will, but somehow works out anyway. 

It isn't a movie. They still struggle with how to balance Dan's job and what that means for them. Phil is thrust into more spotlights than Dan would want him to be in, and Dan still doesn't go to the after party, or eat the crab puffs, but he does hold Phil's hand on the red carpet. He does suffer through the camera flashes and the speculation. He does it with pride and with Phil by his side.

It isn't perfect, and they make mistakes that they can't edit out, but Phil wouldn't have it any other way. 

There's a moment some years in when Phil won't accept Dan's help, doesn't want him to put a word in the right ear to get him a job or have someone somewhere watch his short film. He wants to do it on his own.

Phil goes with Dan to his events, follows him down his red carpets for film after film, until Dan is following Phil down a red carpet of his own. Small ones at first, then bigger and bigger. 

They're both not great at the fame thing, but at least they're not great together. 

"I don't want to go," Phil says one night. 

"That's not like you." 

"I just… I'm beginning to see what you mean about the crab puffs. Annie will understand right?" 

Dan laughs, flopping down on to his side of the bed, his suit trousers on but his shirt still loose and unbuttoned around his shoulders. 

"She'll understand. It's your film, she just consulted." 

"Hm," Phil hums, with a note of disbelief. 

"It's not a premiere, Phil. It's just a press event. The actors can handle it, trust me. Let's not go."

"We have to," Phil says. 

"No," Dan says, "We don't." 

Phil rolls until his face in buries in Dan's chest. 

"I just want to stay here and eat beans on toast and watch anime." 

"Alright," Dan says, fondly, "We'll do that." 

"You make it sound so easy." 

Phil is reminded of a conversation from years before, and ice cream in October when the frosty wind bit at their cheeks. Of Earl looking at them disapprovingly and Dan smiling as they licked cold sugar from structurally dubious cones.

"It is," Dan shrugs, "We're famous Phil, we can do what we want." 

Phil laughs, inhaling the scent of the cologne Dan has put on, something spicy and warm. 

"That's my line," Phil says. 

"It's is," Dan says, "But it's a good one." 

Dan tips his head down and kisses him soundly until Phil's head is swimming.

It isn't a movie, but this scene is perfect.


End file.
